


dog days, lovers haze

by sataninacape



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Henelope brotp, background hizzie if you squint, did i mention there’s dogs involved because there’s dogs involved, not super sad except for this one part heh, the posie dog owners au no one asked for :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 03:03:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18983905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sataninacape/pseuds/sataninacape
Summary: in which josie saltzman frequents the local dog park on the weekends, petting pups and chatting with strangers, and penelope park just so happens to be a stranger with a dog.





	dog days, lovers haze

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzvMuVimb6k

It starts with a song.

 

Actually, it starts with a joke, and then comes the song.

 

Anyway, if we’re getting technical, it starts with the song-writer’s conception, the radio’s invention, the car’s creation.

 

Okay, wait, if we’re getting _really_ technical, it starts with the inception of the universe.  

 

With the planets aligning, the stars shining, the Big Bang banging.

 

Because maybe this is what it takes for Penelope Park and Josie Saltzman to find each other.

 

To bump shoulders, lock eyes, make conversation. To exchange numbers, trade hearts. To lose sleep, talk soft, kiss a lot.

 

To fall in love in a summer.

 

To fall apart in a summer.

 

To lose touch, build walls, dodge calls. To block numbers, break hearts. To back up, turn around, walk away.

 

Because maybe Penelope Park and Josie Saltzman were always meant to tread the waters between love and hate, dive into the deep-end, struggle to stay afloat.

 

And maybe it all started with a joke.

 

* * *

 

It’s nothing knee-slapping, eye-watering. Just typical banter with Hope Mikaelson.

 

Well, maybe not typical, because typically, Penelope and Hope are in the same state when they banter.

 

“Hey, my plane just landed,” Hope’s voice rings out from Penelope’s phone speaker.

 

Penelope fumbles with the volume dial on her car radio, twisting counter-clockwise until the song is a soft hum, before scoffing in response.

 

“I’m sorry, who is this? I don’t recognize the caller-ID. My phone seems to think I’m talking to Hope Mikaelson Is A Treacherous Bitch For Booking A Last-Minute Flight To New Orleans And Not Having The Decency To Say Goodbye To Her Best Friend-Slash-Roommate In Pers-”

 

Hope cuts her off with a groan, and Penelope can just imagine her blue eyes rolling, pink lips tugging.

 

“ _Penelope,_  holy fuck, you’re so dramatic. It’s not like I took a dip in a magical pool of mud that erases me from the memory of all living creatures or anything, I just left to visit my aunts for the summer!”

 

Penelope considers this, checking her blindspot before signaling to switch lanes. “I- That was oddly specific.”

 

“Your face is oddly specific.”

 

A laugh bubbles on Penelope’s tongue because her best friend is a literal child, but Penelope stops herself short when she remembers that she’s supposed to be mad.

 

“Shut up, Mikaelson. I can’t believe you’re leaving me alone for _three months_. Who am I supposed to feed, and clean up after, and platonically snuggle with, now?”

 

There’s a pause and Hope’s voice is muffled when she responds. “First of all, you cooked dinner one time in the past four weeks, Penelope. That is, if you even count mac and cheese as dinner. And, second of all, fuck you for making me out to sound like a literal dog.”

 

Penelope switches lanes and rolls her eyes. “Please, you know very well that mac and cheese can be any meal of the day if you cook it right. Anyway, I don’t have to make you out to sound like anything when you’re an actual bitch, Hope.”

 

Hope doesn’t reply immediately, so Penelope clarifies. “See what I did there? Bitch as in female dog? It was a pun.”

 

“Very funny,” Hope responds dryly. “Please, feel free to go to the animal shelter and replace me while I’m gone then.”

 

Her tone is dripping with sarcasm, and it’s so obviously a joke, Penelope knows she shouldn’t be dwelling on Hope’s words.

 

But there’s a second of silence, of static, and Penelope’s brain buzzes, a light bulb dings.

 

“Hope Mikaelson, that might just be the brightest idea you’ve ever had.”

 

“Why thank you, I- Wait, what? _No_. That was a joke. I was _kidding_! I swear to god, Penelope Park, if you actually adopt a dog while I’m gone-”

 

“Bye, Hope! Have fun, love you tons!”

 

She hangs up, recklessness coursing through her veins. Penelope thinks if her life were a film, this would be the part where she thinks aloud, says “ _I probably shouldn’t get a dog, right?_ ” and the next scene would cut to her at the dog shelter.

 

But her life is not a movie and the thing is, Penelope Park is a rather rational person. Impulse is a stranger to a girl who does everything on purpose, so instead of asking Siri to reroute her to the closest animal shelter, Penelope scribbles out a mental pros and cons list.

 

Or rather, she tries to. But then a song floats out from the car speakers, and Penelope reaches for the volume dial instead.

 

 _Middle of July_ ,

 

“It’s the beginning of June, actually,” she corrects out loud.

 

 _I think I miss you_.

 

Penelope frowns. “I don’t miss Hope, I just miss the bitchy banter.”

 

The beat picks up and Penelope just listens for a moment, head bopping involuntarily.

 

 _On a train_ ,

 

“In a car,” she hums.

 

 _And I’m feeling like I wanna do something I’ll regret_.

 

She thinks the lyrics are a little awkwardly-worded, but they loop in her mind anyway, and her breath catches.

 

It’s dumb, honestly, and Penelope Park doesn’t believe in god, not really, but she thinks that this must be divine intervention of some sort.

 

Honestly, what are the chances that this singer happens to be speaking so clearly to Penelope’s situation?

 

Well, considering the Barnum effect, pretty high actually, but Penelope doesn’t want to consider the Barnum effect. She wants to take this as a sign to do something irrational for once.

 

Normally, Penelope would turn to Hope for advice on matters like this, but the redhead has made her opinion on Penelope’s dilemma rather apparent. So she turns to the only other bitch she feels comfortable confiding in.

 

“Hey, Siri.”

 

The familiar voice rings out immediately.

 

“I’m here.”

 

Penelope smiles, bounces her fingers on the steering wheel, and hesitates before popping the million-dollar question.

 

“Should I get a dog?”

 

A beat. The drums pick up. Penelope holds her breath.

 

“I’m afraid I don’t know how to answer your question.”

 

She lets out a sigh. Go figure Siri wouldn’t come through the one time Penelope needs her advice.

 

Penelope thanks Siri anyway and cranks up the volume.

 

She’s listening intently for more signs, but all Penelope hears is something about thot juice and marijuana and Obama and-

 

“Fuck it, I’m getting a dog.”

 

* * *

 

“Listen, bud. I love you. You know that, right?”

 

Penelope looks up from the stain on Hope’s bedroom floor to the culprit of the scene. His tongue juts out and his head bobs up and down. Penelope sighs, tears her gaze away from the literal puppy dog eyes, and scroungers up some cleaning supplies.

 

“Good. Because you should also know that I will _not_ hesitate to take you back to the adoption shelter if you don’t stop pissing all over the fucking carpet.”

 

A whimper.

 

Penelope retracts immediately, bends down to scratch behind fluffy ears, softens her tone. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

 

Another whimper.

 

“Yeah, I know, I let my frustration get the best of me. But it was an empty threat, I swear!”

 

Blonde fur burrows into her and Penelope lets him tackle her to the ground.

 

“Fine, maybe I deserved that.”

 

She laughs. He sneezes. She laughs some more. And then they just lay there for a minute, Penelope’s head quirking to admire her dog.

 

 _Her dog._  Penelope still can’t wrap her mind around those words.

 

Growing up, her parents never let her have any pets, not even a goldfish, because they raised Penelope to avoid distractions. To avoid friendships and romance and caring for anyone or anything that won’t further you in the long run.

 

And then, sophomore year of high school, came Penelope Park’s first exception. Her name was Hope Mikaelson.

She had a sharp snark and a kind heart and Penelope figured the whole friendship thing might not be so bad after all.

 

And then, last Friday, came her second exception. His name is still pending.

He has brown eyes and walks with a limp and Penelope thinks the whole pet-owner thing might not be so bad after all.

 

And then, two hours from now, Penelope Park will meet her third exception. Her name is Josie Saltzman.

She has a gentle touch and a curious gaze and Penelope will double-take, hesitate, but she’ll still think the whole romance thing is just as bad as it seems.

And then Josie will tilt her head up towards the sun, smile at the clouds, and Penelope will blink twice. Because maybe she’d like to try anyway.

 

Maybe she’d like to say hello, ask for her number, fall in love for the summer.

 

And maybe she will.

 

But right here, right now, Penelope Park is scrubbing her dog’s piss out of her roommate’s carpet and maybe her heart is humming in the same tone as it will be two hours from now. Because maybe there’s a frequency for love and maybe Penelope’s heart has finally caught on.

 

* * *

 

“Are you excited to make new friends?”

 

A huff. Penelope rolls her eyes. What a drama queen.

 

“Well, too bad. Doc says we need to get out and about, and the sun is shining and the birds are chirping, so- hey!”

 

Penelope gaps as her dog surges forward, nuzzles up against a stranger’s legs, and Penelope knocks shoulders against said stranger.

 

“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes. And then Penelope blanches again because aforementioned stranger is a pretty girl with flushed cheeks and rosy lips and, yeah, she is _so_ not sorry. She clears her throat, channels her charm. “My dog tends to get a little excited around pretty girls.”

 

The stranger’s cheeks tint a deeper shade of pink, her eyebrows dance, and she whispers something under her breath.

 

Penelope strains her ears to hear. “Sorry?”

 

“Nothing! I just said he’s really cute. I mean, assuming he’s a ‘he’. Is he a ‘he’? I mean, is it-? Oh my god, not _it_ , I mean, is your dog-”

 

The other girl is clearly flustered and Penelope just barely stifles a laugh.

 

“Yes, he’s a boy.”

 

Her blush lightens, head quirks. “Cool. What’s his name?”

 

Penelope freezes. There’s no way she’s telling this girl, with her big eyes and soft voice, that her dog is currently nameless. She’d probably call CPS on Penelope, and rightfully so.

 

She skims her whereabouts for inspiration, anything really. She spots a family having a picnic on the grass. A toddler is gripping a string bean in her fist, chewing on the end.

 

“Bean.”

 

“Bean?”

 

“Yep. His name is Bean.”

 

The girl smiles. “I like it.”

 

“And I’m Penelope. Penelope Park.”

 

She sticks out her hand in greeting. The stranger accepts it.

 

“Josie Saltzman.”

 

And then their fingers touch, skin burns, and Josie’s eyes shine.

 

“Is it alright if I pet your dog?”

 

Penelope nods, smiles some. She watches as Josie plants herself on the ground, hovers her hand out in front of Bean.

 

“Hey, Bean, I’m Josie. Is it okay if I pet you?”

 

 _Consent._  This girl just asked her dog for his consent to touch him. Penelope swoons a little.

 

Bean juts forward, presses his snout into Josie’s hand and the brunette giggles. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

She runs her hand under his chin, along his sides, and sighs in content.

 

Penelope watches this stranger win over her dog’s heart in the matter of minutes and Penelope thinks her own will be quick to follow.

 

Because there’s something about this girl, with her curly hair and pouty lips and sunny laugh that feels like a beginning.

 

Of something kind, of something tragic, Penelope isn’t quite sure yet. Of something she doesn’t want to end, that much is true.

 

Penelope crouches down on the grass, meets her eyes. “You’re really good with dogs, you know?”

 

She beams. “Thanks, I’d hope so. I’m planning on going into veterinary medicine after I get my Bachelors, so being good with animals is kind of part of the job description.”

 

“That’s great,” Penelope tells her, genuinely. A thought occurs to her and she flashes Josie flirty eyes. “You know, I just adopted Bean a week ago, and Siri is only so helpful when it comes to puppy problems. Any chance you’d be willing to be my on-call dog whisperer?”

 

Her voice is breathy and Penelope knows she has game, so she just stares, waits for Josie to flush, stutter again.

 

Instead, Josie pauses, lips quirked. She looks up from Bean and rolls her eyes. “Is this your way of asking me for my number?”

 

Penelope blanches at the blatant response. “Uh, no. This is _Bean’s_ way of asking you for your number.”

 

Josie’s smile broadens. “Oh, in that case-”

 

She recites her number out loud and Penelope fumbles around for her phone, records the digits hastily.

 

“Cool. You should expect to hear from Bean soon.”

 

Josie tilts her head back, laughs up at the sky. Penelope’s heart stops.

 

“Great.”

 

And then she’s gathering up her things, ruffling golden fur one last time, and looking down at Penelope with a twinkle in her eyes.

 

“I should get going, but I’ll see you around, Penelope Park.”

 

Penelope suddenly doesn’t trust her voice, so she just settles for fluttering her fingers.

 

“Bye, Bean! Call me if you need anything!” Josie calls.

 

Bean barks twice in response, watches the girl leave with a long face.

 

“Me too, buddy,” Penelope tells him, “Me too.”

 

He snorts.

 

“Hey, I am _not_ whipped, okay? I’m just,” Penelope watches Josie smile at dogs as she makes her way through the park, “intrigued.”

 

He snorts again.

 

“I know, I can’t believe I just named you Bean either. Hope’s never gonna let me hear the end of it.”

 

* * *

 

It takes Penelope two days to cave and finally dial Josie’s number.

 

Usually, she’d wait a little longer, play just a little harder to get. But it’s half past midnight and Bean just vomited all over their kitchen floor and Penelope’s first instinct was to call the stranger from the park.

 

She picks up on the third ring, sleepy voice. “Hello?”

 

“Hey, Josie. I’m really sorry for calling this late, but-”

 

“Who is this?”

 

Penelope smacks her forehead. “Right, sorry, this is Penelope. From the park.”

 

There’s a second of static before Josie responds. “Oh? As in Penelope Dog Park?”

 

It takes a minute for Penelope to register the pun, but when she does, she lets out a laugh despite herself. She can practically hear Josie’s smile on the other end.

 

“So, did Bean finally find the guts to-”

 

“Actually,” Penelope cuts in. “Speaking of Bean’s guts, I was calling to see if there’s any way you could come over and check on him. He won’t stop barfing.”

 

Josie doesn’t hesitate before responding. “Of course. Just text me your address.”

 

Penelope lets out a sigh and thanks her. Bean groans from his spot by the couch.

 

“I know, buddy, just hang in there, okay? Josie should be here soon.”

 

Soon is an understatement. Josie’s over in fifteen minutes and Penelope’s heart nearly jumps out of chest when she hears a knock on the door.

 

She creaks the door open, greets Josie with a tired smile. “Hey.”

 

She’s wearing an oversized tee, a pair of running shorts. Penelope refrains from ogling at her bare skin and steps back, invites her in.

 

“Hi. What happened?”

 

Penelope runs a hand through her hair, breaks it down for her.

 

“So Bean hasn’t been eating much these past few days, and I called the vet about it, but he said that loss of appetite is normal in older dogs because their sense of smell and taste is starting to deteriorate, so I figured I was just worrying for nothing, right? But then he woke me up an hour ago and I got up to fetch him some water and I turned around to Bean puking his guts out and there’s no way that’s normal, right? Or am I just over-”

 

“Listen,” Josie is staring at her with wide eyes. “You’re not overreacting. It’s perfectly normal to be worried. But let’s find out if there’s anything to worry about in the first place, alright?”

 

Penelope takes a deep breath. She nods.

 

“Sorry, I’m just not used to this.” Not used to caring so much.

 

Josie shrugs. “That’s okay. No one ever is.”

 

* * *

 

Josie examines Bean, handles him gently, and Penelope watches their exchange.

 

“Bean looks perfectly healthy,” Josie tells her eventually, standing from her place on the floor. “He probably just ate something that didn’t agree with him.”

 

Penelope sighs in relief, lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

 

“But,” Josie continues, “if you want to tread on the side of caution, then feel free to bring him in to the clinic on 45th when you have a chance. I volunteer there on Tuesdays and Thursdays, in case you want to, you know-”

 

Josie flushes and Penelope grins. “Sounds great, I’ll be there Tuesday.”

 

“Cool.”

 

“Cool.”

 

And then they’re standing there, five feet apart, staring at each other, curiosity in the air, when Penelope realizes there’s a literal stranger in her house. A girl she’s known for barely ten whole minutes.

 

And it’s a little ridiculous really, but the thing is, Josie doesn’t feel like a stranger. She doesn’t look like a stranger. She blends in with the beige walls and the chic furniture and the houseplants. Josie Saltzman looks like she belongs here, belongs in Penelope’s home.

 

She looks like she is Penelope’s home.

 

And it sounds dumb, it feels dumb, but Penelope can’t help it. And from the way Josie is looking at her right now, Penelope thinks the feeling might be mutual feeling. She hopes the feeling is mutual.

 

They both part their lips to speak at the same time, bump into each other’s words.

 

“I should-”

 

“Do you-”

 

Penelope chuckles nervously. And then she facepalms internally, rolls her eyes at herself for being _nervous_.

 

Josie imitates her before trying again. “Sorry, you first.”

 

She takes a breath. “Do you want some tea?”

 

Brown eyes blink twice and Penelope holds her breath because _fuck_ , was that the wrong thing to say? Should she not be offering a stranger tea at one in the morning? Did she just ruin whatever chance she had with-

 

Josie breaks her train of thought with a soft smile, an enthusiastic nod. “I’d love some tea.”

 

So Penelope makes them tea, and Josie props herself up on the kitchen counter, watches the water boil.

 

They start off with small talk. With _Where are you from? How did you end up here? Where do you go to school? What do you study? What do you want to be?_

 

And then they settle into the couch, curl into blankets, end up at _Where do you want to go? Who do you want to be?_

 

Penelope watches Josie’s brown eyes shine golden, her loose curls swing like pendulums. Penelope watches her sink deeper into the couch, sink deeper into their conversation.

 

Then, sometime between their second and third cup of tea, Penelope tells a joke. And Josie tilts her head back, lets out a laugh, presses her hand against Penelope’s arm. And Penelope just stares, revels in the moment, holds her breath.

 

Because sometime between dusk and dawn, Penelope Park lets her walls down, caves into Josie’s touch, lets herself fall in love.

 

And Penelope Park has always been afraid of heights, afraid of looking down, afraid of falling to her demise.

 

But with Josie Saltzman, it’s not much of a fall, not really.

 

It’s more like she’s three years old again, standing on the edge of a sidewalk. Her heart is racing and she’s bending her knees to hop off the curb. It feels like she’s on top of the world, about to partake in something monumental.

 

Except, in hindsight, it’s nothing monumental really. Penelope’s barely a foot off the ground and when she leaps off the ledge, she might just lose her balance, scrape her knees, knock a tooth out.

 

And it’s scary, and it’s dumb that it’s scary, but it is. So Penelope considers backing up, taking a different route.

 

But then Bean stirs from his sleep, nudges his way between the girls, plants his head on Josie’s lap and the girl giggles, strokes his fur, tells Penelope about her childhood pets. And Penelope finds herself leaning forward because, for whatever reason, she’d like to know everything about this girl. Which is a first. And it feels like a last. And Penelope wouldn’t mind if Josie was both.

 

So, sometime between their second and third cup of tea, sometime between dusk and dawn, Penelope Park decides to just fuck it and jump.

 

Because maybe she’ll end up with bruises and stitches and a fear of heights.

 

And maybe she’ll never know if she doesn’t leap.

 

* * *

 

 **Penis Park:** i need your help

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** What’s new? Another body to bury?

 

 **Penis Park:** shut up, this is serious

 

 **Penis Park:** besides, no need to tip off the fbi agents in our phones

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** You can’t see me, but just know that I’m rolling my eyes right now.

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** What do you want??

 

 **Penis Park:** i’m going on a date tonight

 

 **Penis Park:** what the fuck am i supposed to wear?

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:**???

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Sorry, is date code for something??

 

 **Penis Park:** date is code for date

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?

 

 **Penis Park:** you’re just jealous because i clearly have more game than you

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Oops, slr, was on the phone with my date from the other night. Apparently she’s already looking for round two.

 

 **Penis Park:** bitch

 

 **Penis Park:** why didn’t you tell me you went on a date?!

 

 **Penis Park:** what’s her name?? are you sure she’s not just a figment of your imagination???

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Her name’s Lizzie, she might as well be a dream, and I didn’t tell you because you wouldn’t shut up about Bean and his visit to the vet’s.

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Speaking of, have you heard back about his results yet?

 

 **Penis Park:** lizzie mcguire

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** No.

 

 **Penis Park:** actually josie just called me about them!

 

 **Penis Park:** looks like bean is a perfectly healthy little bean!!

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** That’s great! I still hate you for replacing me with a dog but that’s great!

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** And? Josie?

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Your date??

 

 **Penis Park:** yes :-)

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Did you just use a SMILEY FACE

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Whipped

 

 **Penis Park:** shut up

 

 **Penis Park:** just tell me what to wear

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Facetime me

 

 **Penis Park:** can’t, i’m at work

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Ugh

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Wear that black leather jacket

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Girls live for that shit

 

 **Penis Park:** tag urself, hope is girls

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** You’re so fucking dumb

 

 **Penis Park:** no you’re dumb

 

 **Penis Park:** why would i wear a leather jacket in the middle of the summer??

 

 **Penis Park:** and love you too boo <3

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Shut up, whatever

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Just have fun

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** And use protection

 

 **Hoe Mikaelson:** Love you

 

 **Penis Park:** i know ;)

 

* * *

 

Their first date is a walk in the park.

 

Literally.

 

Josie stops by Penelope’s and they take Bean to the dog park, spend hours basking in the summer sun.

 

It’s nice, calm, mundane.

 

Except Penelope spends the first twenty minutes antsy and annoyed because their arms keep bumping into each other, hands brushing, skin tingling.

 

So she thinks up elaborate ways to ask Josie if she can hold her hand. And just when she thinks she’s got it, the other girl slips her fingers between Penelope’s, swings their arms back and forth.

 

Penelope smiles, looks over at Josie. Her cheeks are pink and she’s humming under her breath. A School House Rock song, she thinks.

 

“Dork.”

 

“And what about it?”

 

She shrugs. “Nothing. It’s cute, actually.”

 

Josie rolls her eyes, knocks their shoulders together.

 

Penelope sighs, breathes in the end-of-June breeze. She thinks she could get used to this.

 

* * *

 

And she does get used to it.

 

She gets used to their early morning walks with Bean, their late night talks over tea.

 

She gets used to Josie Saltzman and her big eyes and her soft lips. She gets used to movie marathons, morning texts, dinner for two.

 

She gets used to Bean too, and his golden fur and little sighs. She gets used to his minuscule bladder, sloppy kisses, silent remarks.

 

Penelope gets used to her girlfriend and her dog and their constant company, constant affection, and they’re everything she never knew she needed.

 

And on a Tuesday morning, towards the end of August, Penelope finally understands why that’s such a bad thing. Why her parents taught her to be so careful with her heart.

 

Because loving someone means giving them the power to hurt you.

 

And Penelope Park has never liked feeling powerless.

 

* * *

 

 **Penelope Dog Park:** hey, can you come over?

 

 **JoJo Siwa:** Pen, I literally left an hour ago

 

 **JoJo Siwa:** I have to be at work in ten

 

 **Penelope Dog Park:** it’s bean

 

 **JoJo Siwa:** I’ll be right there

 

 **JoJo Siwa:** Is everything okay?

 

* * *

 

Penelope knew exactly what she was signing up for when she adopted Bean. It’s something every pet-owner has to come to terms with eventually, because it’s inevitable. Penelope just didn’t realize it would happen so soon.

 

When Bean passes away, something in Penelope’s heart leaves with him. She isn’t sure how it can hurt to lose someone she’s only known for such little time.

 

Which is why, when Josie comes over that night, Penelope can’t look her in the eyes.

 

She can’t look at brown eyes without seeing Bean’s, without remembering that one day, Josie Saltzman is going to break her heart.

 

And it might be sixty years from now, or it might be sixty days from now.

 

Either way, Penelope doesn’t think she’ll be able to handle it.

 

So she does what she’s always done best.

 

Penelope seizes control, turns the tables, and breaks Josie’s heart before Josie has the chance to break hers.

 

* * *

 

 _Middle of July_ ,

 

Penelope’s heart drops.

 

“It’s February, actually.”

 

“Hope, turn it off.”

 

 _I think I miss you_.

 

Her friend frowns, and Penelope reaches for her phone.

 

“Why? I like this song.”

 

She shrugs, skips through the playlist. Penelope would rather not explain why she hasn’t been able to listen to certain songs, watch certain movies for the last six months. “I just don’t like the beat.”

 

Hope mutters something under her breath, rolls her eyes. Penelope would pick a fight, but she doesn’t feel like it today. Hasn’t felt like it for months.

 

Penelope turns to look out the window and realizes that Hope still hasn’t said where they’re heading. “Where are we going, anyway?”

 

“It’s a surprise.”

 

It’s an animal shelter.

 

Penelope’s breath stops. She turns to Hope. “What are we doing here?”

 

The redhead takes a breath, twists the key out of the ignition. “Penelope, just hear me out, okay?”

 

She doesn’t wait for a response.

 

“You’ve been really sad these past few months, and I’m assuming it has to do with Bean passing away or Josie dumping you-”

 

“Josie didn’t dump me.”

 

“What?”

 

Penelope blinks, repeats herself. “Josie didn’t break up with me. I broke up with her.”

 

Hope scrunches her nose, squints her eyes, tilts her head. “But I thought- Why were you so sad then?”

 

The brunette groans, reaches for the door handle, but Hope clicks a button and she realizes that this is it. There’s no escaping this conversation anymore.

 

“ _Penelope_ , I’m your best friend. You know you can talk to me, right?”

 

“I broke up with her because I didn’t want her to break up with me.”

 

Hope frowns. She doesn’t say anything and Penelope sighs, figures there’s no harm in continuing.

 

“After Bean, you know, after he- I just- I realized that it’s literally pointless. Love is _pointless_ , Hope. It’s just a means to a fucking end.”

 

Penelope groans, presses her hands to her temple. Hope watches her fall apart in the passenger seat of her forest green Subaru, stays to pick up the pieces.

 

They sit there in silence until Hope finally speaks up. “I used to think so too, you know? But last summer, I met this girl.”

 

“Lizzie McGuire?”

 

Hope laughs, rolls her eyes. “Lizzie Saltzman, actually.”

 

_Saltzman._

 

“Saltzman? Don’t tell me she’s-”

 

“Josie’s sister? Yeah.”

 

Penelope shakes her head. Of course. “Is this why I haven’t met her yet?”

 

Hope nods. They sit there in silence again, listen to the buzz of cars speeding down the freeway.

 

“It’s not about the end, Penelope.”

 

“What?”

 

“Love. It’s not about the end. It’s about the in-between. It’s about everything leading to the end, you know?” A beat. “Because _everything_ ends, Penelope. Everything. But it’s not fair to you, or to Josie, to end something that’s barely begun.”

 

Penelope pauses, she thinks on Hope’s words, considers her pitch. And then a laugh bubbles from her lips.

 

“Oh my god.”

 

Hope’s eyes go wide, she looks around in alarm. “What?”

 

Penelope lets six months of laughter fall from her lips. “I can’t believe I’m so out of it that Hope fucking Mikaelson has to play Dr. Phil for me.”

 

"Shut up. You love me."

  

“Whatever.”

 

“ _Whatever._ ”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later, Penelope Park runs into Josie Saltzman at the local dog park.

 

And it’s exactly like all those months ago. The shoulders bumping, the breath catching.

 

“I’m so sorry, I-”

 

Milky brown eyes blink back at her. Penelope’s heart hitches.

 

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats. “Sorry.” She means it.

 

Josie blinks. Penelope waits for her to snap or to turn around, to walk away. It’s the least she deserves.

 

Instead, Josie looks down, whispers, “Your dog is cute.”

 

Penelope pauses, thinks back to all those months ago. “Thanks. Do you want to pet him?”

 

Josie nods, crouches down, asks for permission.

 

A pause. “What’s his name?”

 

Penelope bends down so she can find Josie’s eyes when she responds. “Lima.”

 

“ _Lima Bean_ ,” she mutters under her breath. “Of course you named him Lima.”

 

The brunette watches Josie’s eyebrows tug together, her lips press into a line. She looks tired. Penelope knows it’s her fault.

 

“I’m sorry,” Penelope says again. “I’m so sorry that I-”

 

“I’m Josie.”

 

“What?”

 

Josie shoves her hand out in front of Penelope. “My name’s Josie Saltzman. What’s yours?”

 

Penelope blanches because there’s no way Josie has amnesia because that's-

 

_Oh._

 

Oh.

 

Josie’s eyes are swirling with sorrow and longing and Penelope finally understands what she’s doing. Josie is offering her a new beginning, a chance to start over.

 

Penelope takes her hand.

 

“Penelope Park. But some people like to call me Penelope Dog Park.”

 

Their fingers are tingling and Josie’s lips tug into a smile.

 

“Nice to meet you, Penelope Dog Park.”

 

"Likewise."

 

And just like June, it feels like the beginning.

 

Of something kind. Of something tragic. Of something that’s bound to end.

 

But a beginning nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> HEY hello so this song and this fic have been in my head for ages now and i finally found the time to put it down on paper (not like actual paper, just google docs tbh) and YEah!! i know it was a lil heavy there for a sec but life is heavy sis & i hope you enjoyed anywAyY
> 
> 1 comment = 1 prayer for bean 😔🙏  
> (yikes omg i'm kidding this is so morbid im sorry, i just would like your feedback skjskjs thanks)
> 
> also! you can find me on twitter @sataninacape :)


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